


take the pain, ignite it

by mrspotatohead



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Denial, Drunk Tyler, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Tyler, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Josh is Sad, M/M, Memories, Minor Original Character(s), One Shot, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Poor Josh, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Sad Ending, Sexual Assault, Teenagers, Trauma, Triggers, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:10:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspotatohead/pseuds/mrspotatohead
Summary: josh and tyler get drunk and tyler learns something new about his best friend.  trigger warning for rape/sexual assault!! please do not read if you're triggered by those things!!





	

"Right, Josh, you know - I gotta ask you something, man," Tyler hiccuped, laughing through his words as he did so. Josh took another swig of vodka, flinching a little at the acidic burn, feeling it hit the back of his throat all at once. He turned to face his friend, rolling over onto his side so they could really look at each other, resting his hand against his cheek. They'd decided to swipe a bottle from Josh's dad and drink it in the park, and they'd followed through with that plan _well._

"What is it?" Josh's voice was slurred around the edges, though neither of them seemed to notice or really care. The moon was high in the sky, the stars were bright, and the air was thick with the scent of honeydew. They didn't have anything to complain about, and everything about the world felt harmonious in a melancholic way.

"So, like, are you a virgin?" his friend asked, his eyes still fixed on the constellations in the heavens. He felt it immediately. The shift in his breathing, the panic, the way his chest constricted sharply as the question hung heavily in the air between them, and his hands dug uncomfortably into the grass below him. He hadn't been expecting that. He'd been expecting every single thing _other_ than that particular question.

"Nah, not really," he replied eventually, the words feeling like lead in his mouth, choking him, poisoning him. There was a sudden, persistent lump in his throat that just wouldn't seem to let up, and his hands were shaking numbly as he curled them into fists. Even the word 'virgin' made him want to go to sleep forever and never wake up. He was being dumb, but he couldn't help it. This was the way he was now, and he'd gotten used to it.

"Not really? What does _that_ mean?" Tyler snorted, glancing back at the other boy with quirked eyebrows. Josh felt a flush rise along the edges of his cheeks, and the simmering heat rushed to his face until he was blushing like a teenager after their first real kiss. He silently thanked God that it was too dark for his friend to actually see his face properly, because he knew he'd never hear the end of it. 

"I don't know, man," his voice was weaker than he'd have liked it to be, and flashes of carefully repressed memories were already starting to make their way to the surface of his mind in dark, angry hues: a nightclub that he was technically too young to be in, a lot of alcohol, a man with eyes the colour of blue bruises slipping something into his drink with a lop sided smirk.

"It's a simple question, Joshie," the response was playful and light, but it made something deep inside of Josh feel wrong, like his lungs had been filled with shards of glass and old stones. Like someone had poured freezing cold water into his veins. Like something ancient and rotten had made a home inside of his rib cage and refused to get out.

There was a semi awkward silence when he didn't reply, the only sounds being the rustle of the wind in the trees and the hum of the fireflies that darted around them, tiny inklings of light in an otherwise dusky landscape. He watched as his friend took another swig of the vodka, trying to focus on the present, even though his mind was slipping away from him with every passing moment. He hadn't let himself think about it, and now it was all coming back to him at once, a tidal wave of regret.

A dirty bathroom stall, blood running down his thigh, being unable to find the strength to push the guy off, his hands scrambling uselessly at the man's chest. It hurt, and he hadn't told anyone, and he knew it was his own fault for sneaking into the club in the first place. He knew it, as much as he knew that he needed air to breathe or that two plus two equals four. It was a fact, and that was the worst of it. It was his own fault.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Tyler broke the almost debilitating silence after a while, a note of soberness in his tone. The other boy nodded, drawing in deep breaths, his eyes searching the stars for an answer he knew he wouldn't get. He needed to know _why_ it happened, why it had happened to him, what had he done to deserve it? There had to be something, anything. Things like that didn't just _happen._ He refused to believe it, refused to even acknowledge it. 

"We've just never talked about it, is all," his friend continued nervously, sitting up and pulling his knees into his chest. Josh did the same, feeling like there was a layer of grime under his skin that would never be cleaned away. He wished they weren't having this conversation, he wished they were laughing and joking and being drunken idiots like they'd planned. He noted bitterly that he'd ruined the night, just like he ruined everything else. 

"I'm just being stupid," he sighed, wishing he could articulate it all properly. Wishing he could speak his thoughts in a way that didn't make him sound like a complete degenerate, wishing he could get somebody to understand. He remembered the drowsiness he felt when the roofie had kicked in, the heaviness of his limbs, the disoriented fog in his brain - and he just knew. He would never be able to explain it to anyone, the way it felt, not really.

"You're not," Tyler protested, glancing over at the other boy. His eyes looked almost inky in the darkness, though they held nothing but sincerity and kindness.

"I _am._ It was just a bad experience, I guess. I was drunk and I didn't really want it," he laughed casually as he said it, but he could see his friend furrow his brow and tilt his head to the side in question at the statement. The air thickened with sudden tension; the darkness of the night seemed all the more suffocating. Josh knew he'd said too much, and he glanced away, trying to play it off with a minute shrug.

"What? Drunk? _What?_ "

"Yeah,"  he swallowed, hating the look on the other boy's face. "In a club, last year."

"Josh -" Tyler stared, his skin suddenly pale and waxy under the glow of the half hidden moon. His eyes were wide and he looked like he'd been punched in the gut or something, and Josh knew why, of course he did, but he just held up a hand, not wanting to face it. He seriously thought about getting up and bolting towards home, but something kept him rooted to the ground.

"Don't," he interrupted, his chest heaving. "It was fine, okay? It wasn't - It wasn't like that. It wasn't what you're thinking." Salty tears were burning in the backs of his eyes, harsh and unrelenting. They were looking at each other, and his friend's mouth was hanging half open like a deer caught in headlights. Josh vaguely thought that it was kind of a beautiful sight.

"What am I thinking?" Tyler asked, and his voice was so soft, a gentle whisper on the night time breeze, chilling to the very core.

"Don't," Josh mumbled again, and this time he was pleading, begging. 

"What am I _thinking_ , Josh?" his friend persisted, gaze furiously intense. He wasn't going to let it go, and it was going to ruin everything, and it felt like the whole world was coming to an end, right there in the middle of the park.

"You're thinking he did something to me, okay, but it wasn't _like_ that alright, it wasn't, it wasn't, it fucking wasn't - " he gasped, unable to catch a decent breath, the trees in the distance lurching sideways as he felt a bout of nausea rise in his stomach. Tyler was at his side in a second, crouched in front of him, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the street lamps. His skin was almost translucent and his gaze was so focused it felt like it was burning _, searing_ into the other boy's face.

"Deep breaths, baby," he whispered, and Josh listened, trying to soothe himself, trying to get a handle on reality. His vision swam dangerously before him, but he ignored it, just wanting to feel okay again, wanting to feel _right._ He hadn't felt right in so long, and he missed it more than anything.

"I shouldn't have even been at the club," he breathed out, letting a tear splash down his cheek. He couldn't look at his friend, deciding to keep his gaze on a small ant that was rooting around the earth. The wind whistled in their ears and the moon broke out from behind the thick clouds, a silent observer.

"Don't you dare," Tyler's response was strong and definite. "Don't you fucking dare blame yourself for this."

"I'm not a slut," he spat out, hardly even hearing his friend's quiet reassurances.

"Of course you're not, I know you're not," Tyler grabbed hold of the other boy's wrists, forcing him to look up and make eye contact for the first time since the revelation. His eyes were glassy and sore, and they were rimmed with red around the edges.

"He didn't rape me," he gasped out, squeezing his eyes shut, blocking out the world and the park and the burning alcohol. Rape was a shady looking man pulling a woman behind a bush and having his way with her, not what had happened on a drunken, normal night out. It was okay. He was okay. It was just a one night stand, and everybody had those. 

"Josh..." Tyler hesitated.

"It wasn't," he insisted quietly.

"That wasn't sex, baby, it wasn't, you - you didn't give _consent_ ," the other boy murmured, his shaking fingers wiping the tear tracks from Josh's face, until they were pushed away clumsily, suddenly. Josh stood up quickly, swaying on his feet, and shook his head dementedly, his breathing back to being erratic and sharp.

"No," he whimpered, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders heaving with sobs.

Warm arms enveloped him, and he was being pressed into Tyler's shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears as he cried, his body feeling like a worthless, wide void. Something that been defiled, something that didn't belong anywhere anymore.  A misplaced item that nobody cared to search for. 

"You haven't been treated the way you should've been treated," his friend whispered simply, and Josh relaxed into the comfort of the other boy's touch, the gentleness of his voice. So nonthreatening, so safe, so familiar. His best friend.

And yet he still didn't know whether or not to believe him.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so writing - wise this is one of the worst things i've ever done it's so bad and like yikes but yah i was bored and i love these two so hope you like it!!
> 
> kudos and comments rly mean everything to me i get discouraged so easily and they help me a lot!!


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